Remote Control

Life would certainly be a lot easier if everything came with a remote control. I am thrilled that my “new” car has a remote that allows me to open the door and the trunk at the push of a button – such luxuries I had never dreamed of before! Imagine a remote that would turn on the shower and adjust it to the perfect temperature before you ever had to crawl out of bed and stumble into the bathroom, hopping from one foot to another on the cold bathroom tile. What I would most like now though is a remote to turn on and off my thoughts. There are times when I am ready to contemplate the depth of the world, and times when I would like to just skim the surface. Unfortunately I do not seem to have any control over when the stone of my mind skips happily along the top of the water and when it plunges deep below. Instead I am just along for the ride. I can focus on whatever I am doing at the time, but whenever I have “free” time, or quiet time my mind is pulled wherever the stone has been tossed. Pondering questions of life and death, of meaning and purpose can be enjoyable for a while but then your spirit grows heavy and you grow wary of trying to find answers when there are none to be found. I know just how blessed I am to be alive, to have received almost 25 years of life that no one ever expected me to have, to have been given a second chance of life that most in my situation never receive. So I feel selfish when I want more – when I want to feel secure in believing that I will grow old, when I want to believe I will have the chance to experience all of the things that I dream of and that I see those my age experiencing, when I want to comprehend the why and the how. Why was I given this chance when most infants simply slip over into heaven in the night and their parents are left with all of the questions? Why was I spared the severe brain damage that seemed guaranteed, that was so imminent that the doctors encouraged institutionalization for an infant? Why was I given life when death was decreed by those who see children like I was on a regular basis? I am not any better, I am not any purer, my parents did not pray any harder, my family was not any greater than any of those who did not receive a chance at life. It is something I do not understand. It pulls me in so many directions. I am so blessed and so thankful for this chance and I feel a deep sense of responsibility to make sure that I live my life with purpose, that there is meaning to all of this because if I allow this tremendous gift to be wasted it would be inexcusable. Yet I sometimes become so frustrated with all of the challenges and struggles that I want to yell, to demand something easier only to be reminded how much harder it could have been if it were at all. How can I demand more when none of this should have been at all? Am I selfish to want more when I have already received a miracle? These are the places my mind wanders, the places I do nto mind visiting for a short period of time but that I would like to be able to leave sooner than later. If only I had a thought remote. Instead I have my writing – my journals, my poems, my stories. If I must remain in the depths of my thoughts for a period of time then I can pull from it lessons for myself, and treasured writings, and even gifts of words that will last forever. Writing is my great joy, my means of coping, my art, my escape, my tool of discovery, and my way of creating a legacy. Sounds silly but to me it makes sense. But I would still like that remote!